


Let's Enjoy Ourselves~

by Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs



Series: TF Anon Kinky Meme Fills [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Furniture Kink, Gay Sex, Kissing, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7727686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs/pseuds/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet receives a new 'table' in the mail... Only, it's not just ANY table. He puts Drift into the table with his spike sticking out of a small hole, shutting him in before inviting Perceptor over... Needless to say, Perceptor is delighted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Enjoy Ourselves~

**Author's Note:**

> TFAnonKinkyMeme Fill Here is the prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=15696789#t15696789  
> Please enjoy! I love Perceptor/Ratchet/Drift, and it is the first story about them I've attempted to make! Please let me know what you think!  
> Also, I am planning on updating You Know You Like it Next!!

"What is it Ratch?"

The voice from behind the medic made Ratchet smirk faintly as he turned and cocked his helm in an innocent gesture as he smiled faintly at Drift. "What is what?" He asked, pointedly avoiding Drift's question as he waited for a response from the younger mech, who now looked suspicious.

"That." Drift responded, pointing behind the orange and white mech, who looked behind him at a new piece of furniture that he had acquired. "What about that?" He asked, purposefully trying to increase the curiosity of the smaller speedster, who huffed and attempted to walk around him to get to the new table, Ratchet grabbing his arms and holding him in place. "Where do you think you're going?" He asked in a deep tone, making Drift stiffen and look at him curiously now. "To see what it is..." He answered.

Chuckling, Ratchet shook his helm at the younger mech as he slowly backed Drift into the wall, smirking as he leaned his faceplates in close to Drift's. "Did I say you could look at it?" He purred, nipping lightly at the white finial, relishing the shiver that passed through the pinned mech.

Drift shuddered as he heard the tone in Ratchet's voice and he looked into cyan optics with his own blue. "Mmmm... This is one of your little games, isn't it?" He asked curiously, feeling slightly excited about it now... Ratchet always had the most interesting ideas, and it always had him running hot.

Smirking widely as he pulled back lightly, Ratchet chuckled again. "Of course it is. Only... We're going to have a guest." The medic whispered, lips brushing against Drift's, causing the blue optics to widen at the sudden, rough grope to his spike housing. "R-Ratchet!" He gasped, feeling heat begin the coil in his lower regions.

Ratchet sensed the sudden flare of eager excitement in the other mech's EM field and chuckled softly as he pulled away. "Now you can come and look at it.~" He purred as he moved over to the table, which was open, almost like a coffin of sorts... Looking like an ordinary table, but with a removable lid.

Confused by the strange table, Drift looked up at Ratchet. "What's it for?" He asked, Ratchet laughing. "If you want to see what it does, lie down in there." He ordered, the white speedster mech eyeing him before he moved towards the table and slowly got into it, lying on his backstruts, looking at Ratchet for more instructions.

"Now..." Ratchet purred as he reached into subspace and pulled out a small ring, holding it directly in front of Drift with a chuckle. "You have to wear this." He stated, the white mech's optics brightening slightly and a little smile played over his lips as a small 'schnik' sound filled the room. Drift's spike jutted out of his spike housing, although it wasn't fully pressurized and he gave a playful shake of his hips. "Slip it on there then."

Ratchet shook his helm at the other mech's attitude and slipped the ring over the white and red designed spike, giving the tip a flick and enjoying the little squeak it's owner gave. "Mmm... I might need to get this... Ready. Don't you think?" Ratchet asked, dragging a digit along the length, watching Drift's faceplates morph into excitement and chuckling. "Perhaps you should wait... Now Drift, I'm going to shut you in here. Then the real fun will start." Ratchet purred. "Also, let's put this on you." The medic added, placing a ball gag inside Drift's mouth before, leaning down and pecking a small kiss to the speedster's lips before pulling away and closing the lid, making sure that Drift's spike came out of the hole meant for a spike, smirking at the sight. "Perfect." He teased as he clamped the lid shut.

Then receiving a ping, the medic straightened upwards and he smirked lightly, giving the table a little knock. "Looks like our little playmate is here. Now be patient Drift, and we'll be able to have fun." The medic purred before turning around and moving out of the room to the door, opening it and smiling at the mech waiting outside. "Perceptor~." He stated in a seductive tone, making the scientist give him a little look of disapproval, although a slight smile did touch his lips.

Stepping into the building, Perceptor looked at Ratchet with a blue optic, humming. "And whatever did you need me to come and see? I'm in the middle of a sensitive project and cannot delay for-" Perceptor was cut off when Ratchet smacked his aft hard enough to jar him, causing him to glare at the other mech. "Ratchet! That was most-"

Impatient with the other mech, Ratchet rolled his optics. "Ep, ep ep!" He growled, making a zipping motion across his lips. "You forced me to relax and now it's my turn... I'm sure you'll find the setup enjoyable at the least." He stated with a purr, turning and motioning for Perceptor to follow him.

Something about the medic's attitude had Perceptor curious, like any good scientist was, and he moved to follow the mech back into another room where a table stood in the middle of the room and... Was that a spike??

Ratchet moved and pulled a chair up beside the table as he watched understanding dawn on Perceptor's faceplates and a shudder pass through the red and blue frame. "I obtained an interesting toy, and Drift wants to be played with." Ratchet stated with a chuckle as he watched the scientist move closer. "So why not... Entertain him?" He asked, leaning back in his seat.

Perceptor chuckled softly. "My my Drift... What has Ratchet gotten you into this time?" The red and blue mech purred as he leaned down and suddenly gripped the white and red spike tightly, chuckling at the muffled moan from within the box, making Perceptor shake his helm and release it again. "Hmmm... So many possibilities.~" He purred softly.

A small, muffled sound came from the box where Drift was locked when the autobot genius reached out and wrapped his digits around the white and red spike, giving it a deft squeeze to coax some more sounds out of Drift. "Hm... Drift, you seem so eager, don't you?" Ratchet chuckled from where he watched Perceptor fondle the speedster's spike and then lean down to wrap his lips around the tip, the heat causing Drift to let out a surprised moan.

The white mech bucked against the lid when as he felt warm, soft lips enveloping his spike, a glossa running along his length as it fully pressurized now, making the white mech groan. He wanted to urge Perceptor to continue, but couldn't due to the gag. It was so arousing, not being able to see where Perceptor or Ratchet were, and unable to anticipate what they would do to him next.

"Just play with him. He can't overload." Ratchet stated from where he was sitting before standing and moving over, pushing Perceptor back against the table and leaning over him with a smirk. "Perhaps if he's good we can help him out." The medic purred as he leaned down and kissed the red and blue mech, Perceptor moaning as his lower lip was tugged, spreading his legs a little as the medic's servo found it's way to grope at his panel. "R-Ratchet." He gasped out as the orange and white mech pulled away with a smirk. "Ah ah. You use Drift. Then we can have fun." The medic ordered, motioning to the spike poking out of the hole in the table, chuckling at the way it was trembling needily for aid.

Perceptor shuddered at the unspoken promises within the medic’s voice and he lifted himself up onto the table, spreading his own legs so that Ratchet could have a good view of his opened panel, dipping two digits between teal blue folds and into the warmth between them.

Groaning, Ratchet watched the scientist with an approving smile as Perceptor slowly began to thrust and scissor his digits, letting out the most adorable sounds as he prepared himself for penetration, shutting his optics and whimpering as his cooling fans were set onto a higher setting, the sound audible to both Ratchet and Drift from where he was locked in the box… It was almost frustrating for the poor white mech to be unable to see Perceptor, fully aware of the scientist actions.

Ratchet stepped in closer now, loving the way Perceptor’s blue optic was watching him, full of lust and need as the medic leaned down to gently remove Perceptors servo from near his valve, gripping his thighs and pulling them further apart before lowering his faceplates to the swollen valve.

A shudder passed through Perceptor as he felt his companion exvent over his plump folds, shivering with a soft moan. “R-Ratchet… Please.” He whimpered, spreading his legs even wider for the medic to have more room between them, causing Ratchet to chuckle. “Patience, Perceptor.” He hummed, his glossa flicking out over the excitedly pulsing sensor node, causing Perceptor to jerk and gasp.

Ratchet purred softly, holding tight to Perceptor as he repeated the gesture, enjoying the soft whimper it ellicited from the mech above him, shifting as he pressed his lips against that needy valve, glossa swiping along the outer folds before delving into it greedily. 

Perceptor groaned, his servos going to the orange and white helm between his legs, gripping it tightly as he rolled into the glossa invading his most intimate area… Slag… Ratchet was so fragging good with his glossa!!

Working over the red and teal mech’s valve in a possessive way, Ratchet having always been dominant of his two berth partners, with Drift as the submissive… It worked out quite well actually. Ratchet was pulled from his thoughts as Perceptor bucked his hips up against his helm, the medic forcibly pinning him down as he continued, the taste and scent of the scientist all around him as he smirked against his mate’s valve, listening to Drift whimpering and squirming needily within his confinement.

“R-Ratch… Please.” Perceptor gasped out as the medic began to pinch and flick his external node, making him jerk, moan and gasp with each touch, feeling the curl of heat in his lower abdomen growing into a raging inferno the closer he grew to his overload. “R-Ratch! I need to-” He cut off as Ratchet suddenly pulled away from him and gave a rough, teasing smack to his valve as he retreated, causing the aroused valve to send a shock of pain-pleasure through Perceptor, drawing him back from the edge as he whined in complaint.

Laughing, Ratchet leaned up and gripped the back of Perceptor’s helm, pulling him into a kiss, nipping at those beautifully pouting lips in a demand for entrance, humming in approval when his demands were granted and Perceptor parted his lips to allow him access, the medic searching his mouth thoroughly before pulling away.

Perceptor flushed darkly as Ratchet pulled back with a dark purr, a string of oral lubricants connecting their mouths before it snapped at the slowly extending distance. “Why’d you do that?” The scientist complained, tone slightly accusing as Ratchet laughed again. “Why Perceptor… Drift will help with your overload, won’t you Drift?” He asked loudly, knocking on the table nearby the trapped mech’s helm, smirking at the muffled exclamation from beneath it. “I thought so.” He murmured sweetly as he moved away. In reality, when a mech drew close to his overload, his valve would tighten, so Ratchet, being aware of this, knew that Drift would feel much larger to Perceptor than he usually did.

Watching Ratchet go with a pout, Perceptor immediately turned his attention onto Drift’s spike, getting over it on his knees, gripping it tightly and shuddering at the muffled cry his mate gave at the sudden touch to the sensitive organ.

Lowering himself slowly, Perceptor rubbed the sensitive tip of Drift’s spike along his outer valve lips, moaning lowly as Drift echoed the sound. Giving a feral grin, Perceptor slowly lowered himself over his lover’s spike, inch by delicious inch, groaning at how slagging big the speedster felt between his clenching walls, venting heavily as his fans kicked onto their highest setting.

Drift was overwhelmed with the sensations of a tight, well lubricated valve sinking over him so slowly, the white mech preferring to thrust fully into his partners the moment he was prevented with a well-lubricated valve, so the slow pace at which Perceptor was proceeding was nearly torture! Not to mention that being closed within the table was nearly stifling, his frame pumping heat out into the box and attempting to draw cool air back in, only succeeding in bringing in more heat. All in all, it added to the sensations and made Drift nearly mad with desire and need, moaning louder in hopes that Ratchet and Perceptor would take pity on him.

“Mmmm. You look so good like that Perceptor~.” Ratchet purred from where he sat, his own spike now standing proudly erect between his legs, the medic stroking it lazily as his cyan optics remained fixated on the sight before him, the sounds coming from both of his mates almost intoxicating. “Ride him now. I’m sure you’re extra needy after I finished, hmmm~?”

Staring at the orange and white mech sitting near by, Perceptor groaned softly, slowly raising himself up and relishing the thick spike within him stimulating every sensor node he had until only the tip remained in him, before falling back down onto it, arching his backstrut and crying out. “Oh Drift!!” He gasped, rolling his hips before raising his lower frame back up and dropping down again, letting out a static-laced cry when the white and red spike struck against his ceiling node, the scientist overloading on the spot, gasping as his valve clenched down roughly on the spike intruding between it’s walls, sucking greedily for transfluids that never came. “Slag…” 

Ratchet laughed from where he sat, still working his own charge up, running a thumb digit over the tip of his spike, which wasn’t as long as Drift’s, but much thicker. Humming as he inspected the transfluids that had smeared onto his thumb digit, Ratchet stood and moved over to Perceptor, the scientist having continued his riding of the trapped mech’s spike, cupping those beautiful gray faceplates and pressing his thumb against Perceptor’s lips. “Open up.” He purred softly, shuddering as the scientist obeyed and sucked his thumb between his lips, glossa slowly lapping the transfluids off, making Ratchet hiss with pleasure as the extremely sensitive sensor in his digits were stimulated, groaning. “That’s it.”

Moaning around the digit in his mouth, Perceptor shuttered his optics and continued to frag himself on Drift’s spike, the muffled cries coming from beneath him almost as arousing as the spike stretching his valve.

Smirking, Ratchet watched as Perceptor worked towards his own overload so wantonly, the medic reaching his free servo out to cup the scientist’s face and caress the plating with a purr. “Open your optics, ‘Ceptor.” He hummed softly. “I want you to look at me as you overload.~” 

Shuddering, the red and teal blue scientist opened his bright blue optics, staring into Ratchet’s as he continued to suck on the digit in his mouth, obligingly taking another two in to suckle as he felt himself come to the cusp of overload. 

Ratchet growled when Perceptor suddenly overloaded, denta lightly biting at his digits and causing the medic to moan at the sensory overload, watching lustfully as Perceptor arched his backstruts with a cry, lubricants gushing from around the spike still buried deeply within his clenching valve, venting heavily. “Hm…~” Ratchet groaned softly, lightly slapping a servo against the scientist’s cheek plating. “Off you get, ‘Ceptor.” The orange and white mech purred fondly. “It’s my turn to use Drift, and while I do, I want you to use your mouth.” He ordered.

Nodding at the orders having been given to him, Perceptor gingerly lifted himself off of Drift’s swollen spike, moaning as the white and red surface of the madly pulsating organ gleamed dimly in the light, coated with Perceptor’s fluids.

Drift, lying within the confines of the table, whimpered desperately and bucked up against the table, but was held fast. Slag, slag slag! He kept repeating to himself over and over again, the burning need nearly overwhelming as he attempted to sit up, frame overheating slightly from the lack of cooler air, the speedster whimpering pleadingly for his companions outside of his ‘cage.’ He had felt Perceptor overload, the scientist’s clenching valve nearly painful as his spike swelled in preparation for overload, only to find itself unable to, the transfluids trapped behind the ring around the base of his spike.

Hearing Drift’s whimpering and muffled pleading, made unintelligible by his gag, Perceptor looked up at Ratchet as he watched the medic climb over the swollen spike and position his valve for it. “Should we help him out, Ratch?” Perceptor asked, enjoying the thoughtful look on Ratchet’s face plating and the way that Drift’s muffled cries became more insistent. 

“Hmmm.~” Ratchet hummed thoughtfully before dropping himself onto the trapped mech’s spike, moaning at the sudden stretch. “I think not, ‘Ceptor… Now… Stop talking and use your mouth. Ratchet ordered, venting slightly hitching as he moved over Drift, watching with lustful optics as Perceptor leaned forwards and took his spike in his mouth, suckling like a sparkling would it's carrier, making the older mech moan softly and spread his legs a little more, Drift whimpering. "Hush, Drift." Ratchet ordered in a playful tone, knocking on the table. "We'll help you when we're done." he stated before turning his attention onto Perceptor. "Please, 'Ceptor... Carry on." He hummed in pleasure, ignoring Drift as he begged for overload unintelligibly.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, and, again... I'm so so sorry about the wait. Let me know what you would like changed/fixed and I'll try to do it. :)


End file.
